Book II - 67

AUDREY

“I’m sorry, Audrey,” Charles apologized, his eyes concerned.

“I’ll deal with you later, Charles,” I dismissed, and he excused himself, giving us a space to talk. I set my eyes on my annoyingly fine-looking father—or so I thought. He wasn’t my real dad, after all.

And so much for a dying man. He didn’t look sick at all. Maybe Anton was lying to me back then, too.

“So now tell me what you want to tell me because I won’t be staying here to mingle with you,” I went on.

I couldn’t let Gabriel wait for me for long anyway, and I had to go back before he’d suspect anything. It’d be much better to tell him about Charles and Dad when I get back.

“My darling girl, Audrey. You grew up into a fine young woman,” he praised, staring at my face and matching it with a fake smile. “You look very much like your mother!”

“Quit the chit-chat and get to the point. Tell me about my mother because it’s the only reason I’m here anyway. Just so you know, I don’t care why you are here.”

The father I’d